


Awake

by FirefliesAndFallingStars



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s02e19-20 Twilight of the Apprentice, Post-Malachor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirefliesAndFallingStars/pseuds/FirefliesAndFallingStars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>That first night, Ezra can’t sleep.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>He sits out on the ramp of the Ghost and stares up at the stars—a wide swath of diamonds, brighter here, on this deserted planet with its cloudless skies, than they ever were back home on Lothal.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Somewhere out there, Vader is still alive--of that much he's certain.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>The thought makes him want to scream.</i>
</p>
<p>After Malachor, Ezra's unable to sleep, and Kanan's there when his padawan needs him most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to join in on the post-Malachor fun. (Well, maybe not fun, exactly, but . . .)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

That first night, Ezra can’t sleep.  
He’s thrown up twice. His mouth still tastes like bile, no matter how many times he rinses.  
He doesn’t want to keep Zeb awake, so he sits out on the ramp of the Ghost and stares up at the stars—a wide swath of diamonds, brighter here, on this deserted planet with its cloudless skies, than they ever were back home on Lothal.  
Somewhere out there, Vader is still alive--of that much he's certain.  
The thought makes him want to scream.  
He squeezes his eyes shut—tears trickling down his cheeks—and pulls his knees to his chest.  
Images he doesn’t want to see play behind his closed eyelids—the temple door closing on flashing scarlet and white blades, burned skin and empty eye sockets, red-tinged lightning.  
Sobs shake his body, and he presses his face into his knees.  
“Ezra?”  
He hears Kanan’s voice, feels the familiar presence in the Force, but he doesn’t look up.  
Kanan sits down beside him and reaches out to put a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, and a calming sensation slowly spreads through his veins.  
Ezra’s felt this before. Kanan steadying him through the Force after his first brush with darkness at Anaxes, and later in Ryder Azadi’s hut after Ezra learned the truth about his parents.  
And he hates that Kanan—who’s _blind_ because of him—has to do this.  
The sobs slowly ebb into harsh gasps and then deep, steadying breaths, but he stays curled up, because he can’t bring himself to look at Kanan, at the bandage that now covers burned eye sockets, at the face of the master he betrayed and failed.  
“Ezra, what’s wrong?” Kanan asks quietly.  
_Nothing. Everything._  
Ezra doesn’t want to answer. Doesn’t trust himself not to start crying again.  
But he forces himself to look up, to look at the bandage where Kanan’s eyes should be.  
“It was my fault. You. Ahsoka. Everything. I just . . .”  
Tears flood his eyes, and he lowers his head again even though he knows Kanan can’t see him crying.  
That thought just makes it worse.  
He feels Kanan shift beside him, and then his master’s arms are around him, warm and comforting, and for the first time since Malachor, Ezra feels safe.  
“I don’t blame you. For any of it. And I know Ahsoka wouldn’t feel any different.” Kanan’s voice is gentle, reassuring, like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Ezra. Don’t let yourself believe that.”  
Ezra chokes down another sob. “I—I shouldn’t have trusted Maul. And now you’re _blind_ —“  
He gives in and lets himself break down, sobbing into Kanan’s chest until he’s finally out of tears, until he’s as shaky and weak as a newborn loth-kitten.  
“It’s okay.” Kanan’s voice is just barely more than a whisper. “It’s okay.”  
His arms form a barrier between Ezra and the rest of the world, a place where Ezra feels safe, and when the sobs have faded into gasping and then into slow breaths gradually steadying into a pattern, he keeps his face pressed into Kanan’s shirt.  
Finally he pulls back a little, and Kanan releases him.  
“Come on.” His master stands up, offers Ezra a hand. “I’ll make you some caf.”  
Ezra shakes his head before remembering how meaningless that gesture is to someone who can’t even see it. “Um . . . I don’t think I can keep it down.”  
He sees the surprise flicker across Kanan’s face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Okay. Ice chips?”  
“No.” Deep breaths. He can’t let himself break down again. “I—I just want to be alone.”  
“Okay.” He gently guides Ezra to the door. “Come on. You can’t stay out here. It’s freezing.”  
As Ezra palms the door lock and slips into his room, Kanan tells him to come get him if he needs anything.  
Ezra tells him he will. But he knows he’s not going to.  
He still can’t sleep. The shadows seem to dance, twisting into familiar forms, shapes that make his heart clench and his mouth go dry.  
When he finally does doze off, he wakes not even an hour later from a nightmare, and Kanan’s there within moments.  
Ezra brushes his master off, insists he’s okay.  
But he doesn’t fall back asleep.


End file.
